Trapped Within
by Lady-Kana22
Summary: The war has left Draco with nothing to want yet there in the form of a Hogwarts letter and a visit from Potter could change what he sees as his bleak future. Where in the darkness will Draco find what he wants? HP/DM
1. Prologue: A Chance

Thank you very much for taking the time to read this prologue for a story I am starting up for one of my favorite ships. I hope to update at least once every week to two weeks seeing that I am primarily typing this up at work when I have free time xD. This story will be a little angsty as I just can't see them being all happy ecstatic after a war. It will not be epilogue compliant to the book and it will contain man on man action so you are forewarned!

As everyone else already knows, they only owner of this wonderful universe is J.K. Rowling therefore the only one making any monetary gains from her written work, not me!

Prologue: A Chance

He had never imagined that sitting upon the old wooden desk he would find a letter written on the familiar old parchment with the red wax seal of the once grand Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had seen firsthand the devastation that had been caused to the old school during the war; whole parts of the castle destroyed by ogres, fires set everywhere for distractions, and the spells cast by both sides for destruction. He had read headlines in the Daily Prophet here and there when he could stomach to look at it about the Ministry trying to prevent the future of their young wizards and witches from being affected by the war. A thought far too late in his mind as many like him already had blood upon their hands and had watched much death envelope the Wizarding world. Restoring Hogwarts for people to return and finish their schooling as if the last year was nothing more than a nightmare you couldn't wake from and all share it.

The letter had been lying on his desk for 3 days now, unopened and untouched. He didn't care what was in it in the least bit and it just laying there brought back memories he wanted to bury away forever. There in that castle he had lost his childhood to childish school rivalries because of his father, he had lost himself in that bathroom everyday he had cried his sixth year, he had lost his hope and one of his best friends in the Room of Requirement, and almost his life. He touched lightly one of the many scars that were hidden under his jumper, one of the many reminders of what the war had left behind to always remind him of the pass each and every day. That castle would be a constant reminder of who he was and it would be only a mild improvement to the memories that haunted him at Malfoy Manor.

Malfoy Manor, once standing tall with prestige of centuries of a pureblood lineage and now only a symbol of what the war cost so many. It was there in the walls, in the hallways, in what others thought was silence...the screams of a war that ravaged his home and still lingered. Every night they grasped at his mind and followed him in the daytime, there was no hiding from it awake or asleep. The eyes of people now long gone and with no life left to them still looked back at him through his closed eyelids and corridors in the manor. He had escaped Azkaban but he could not escape what he once called home. No longer was it the home he grew up in or the home where he had watched his mother peacefully read and his father work quietly in the study. It was the empty shell of death; it was the ground where innocent blood had spilled so many times, where people had lost all hope, and where his family had become broken.

Often he would find himself walking the halls of the Manor in search for a peace that he knew he would never find in the home again. He would pass by the study, which once served as his father's study, to find his mother sitting in the large black chair his father use to sit at. She would be accompanied on both sides by large stacks of Daily Prophets that had already been read through thoroughly. He had watched as the piles grew larger and larger as the trials went on for them. Each paper contained one thing or another about them but mostly about his father. It was in those papers that he watched his mother attempt to keep her grounded to reality that her husband was never coming back and that her home would never be the same again. He would watch her quietly sometimes as she would pick up a paper already read and stare at the moving pictures of a broken Lucius Malfoy during his long trial. It was what he found himself doing that particular afternoon, standing outside the study watching her in the same quiet manner that she read in.

"Draco dear, please come in to speak with me" the voice was quiet, almost enough that he hadn't almost heard it at all. "I know you're there watching as you tend to do" she added on, this time looking up from the paper in her hands to look out the slightly open doors.

It was unusual for him, to have his ritual broken of silently observing his mother before moving onto the dungeons. He had never asked about her actions in fear that he may take from her a private moment that was not meant for others to see. He knew better than anyone how hard it was for a Malfoy to show emotion of any kind, that bitter mask of indifference that was a staple of the Malfoy lineage always present. He wanted his mother to let out what he could not find himself doing in the privacy of his quarters behind closed doors. He wanted his mother to remain the amazing woman she was even before the war claimed the Malfoy name.

"Draco" he heard once more from his mother, snapping him from his thoughts and causing him to walk into a area his mother could see him from within.

He had felt as if his hands were trembling as he reached for the handle to open the door but he knew he wasn't. A ghost of a reaction he had found himself once before doing when he had gone to visit his father after being given his task to kill Dumbledore. There in that room he had felt trapped and suffocating as the words sank deeper and deeper of what he had to do so that he would never had to see the lifeless eyes of his mother. That room was yet another memory that haunted him constantly during every hour of the day. As he entered he saw the familiar towers of books all along the walls with many empty spaces.

He remembered when the trials ended and Aurors littered his home all hours of the day combing every inch of the Manor for dark artifacts and books. They had taken most of his father's personal collection from the study leaving many of the shelves empty. Another reminder in those shelves of the holes that been left in their lives, another memory for him. He walked slowly to the chairs that had not been moved in weeks in front of the large heavy desk. He seated himself quietly before his mother, looking up to find eyes filled with concerned.

"My dearest have you opened the letter from Hogwarts yet?" she asked in the same serene voice he had heard from a child, one of the few things to not change over the last 2 years.

"You should not concern yourself with the letter Mother" the reply held the tenseness that was in his shoulders despite trying to keep his voice neutral.

"My son, I don't want to see you waste away in these walls for the rest of your life," the sadness that laced her voice was evident as she stood from her seat to take the one beside her son. "McGongall has written to me that you have not responded to her request for you to return to Hogwarts."

Now he knew the contents of the letter than remained untouched. An invitation for him to return to Hogwarts to finish his education, a sad and feeble attempt to make it seem like everything was fine. An invitation to watch as the school turned hateful eyes upon him, to an empty common room where Vincent would never sit again, a school that would forever remember Pansy attempting to give over the Boy Who Lived, and a classroom where his godfather would never teach in again. He could feel the bile rise up in his throat as bitter as his thoughts and he tried to push it down as quickly as possible.

"I have no intention to ever set foot there again," he began as he turned away from his mother and her saddening gaze. "I am more than sure no one will miss my presence there."

"My son you were freed from your charges by the Wizengamot just as I was, there" Narcissa had began to implore only to be cut off by her son looking at her in outrage.

"You in the eyes of the Wizarding world is the woman who lied to protect Harry Potter which saved this war but that is not who I am" Draco ground out as he attempted to control all the emotions that stirred in him suddenly. "I am the one who let those Death Eaters into Hogwarts, I was the one to cross that courtyard into that mad man's arms, I am the one who holds his mark upon my arm, I am the one that tortured Muggles in this house!" his attempt to have control was lost as his guilt consumed him more than ever. He stood from the chair to look down at his mother who held back the tears in her eyes. "I have certainly not forgotten who I am so why do you think the rest of the Wizarding World has?" he asked in a lowered voice now as he watched the tears spill forth at his question. "I am sorry mother but this is the life that is meant for me, not the one I want but the one given to me. I am not returning to Hogwarts" he almost whispered to her as silence overcame the both of them.

He turned away from her before she could say anything else and exited the study to seclude himself in his quarters. He had grown accustomed to his days dragging on as if there was no end as he wallowed in his emotions but now they seemed to overpower his very being. There it was again, that sensation of so much self hatred that it was barely containable. He reached up to touch his scars once again through the jumper he wore, reminding himself that his body was already littered with scars so adding another was pointless. It reminded him of all the pain already he had endured so why go through more of it at his own hands.

He had passed the parlor but stopped for a moment as he saw upon the table another Daily Prophet lying there awaiting his mother to be read. He approached it slowly and from where he stood at the large entrance he could see the large title that was smeared across the front "Boy Who Lived to Return to Hogwarts". There you could see the Boy Who Lived with merely a smile on his face as his friends behind him seemed to smile to make up for his lack of enthusiasm. The Savior of the Wizarding World and all people could talk about everywhere, a presence he could never escape no matter what. He could still remember him in the dungeons of the manor and yet not being able to say it was him. The feeling had been so immense to say it was Potter but he wasn't able to bring himself to it. At the time he had told himself that he really wasn't sure that it was Potter but the real reason he had buried down much deeper.

He had lied because there before him was his salvation. Heavens he would never admit to anyone that he had considered Potter in any way his salvation but it was evident that Potter was not only his but everyone's only hope to a future that wasn't tainted completely. In Potter's defiant gaze in those dungeons he realized that Potter was his last result to preserving what little was left of his humanity between the cold walls of reality. It was a way of remembering his days in Hogwarts when things hadn't been as complicated as they had turned. It had made him miss the small trivial fights he had picked with Potter and the Weasel, much tamer than the torturing he partook in now.

He wanted no recollection of the Golden Trio in that instance, taking out his wand to set the paper a blaze but that only served to be more of a taunt to him. His mother's wand is what sat between his fingers, different from his Hawthorn wood one that lay somewhere in Potter's belongings rather than with him. That overwhelming bitter feeling was starting to return to him as he realized once again why he had practically stopped using magic altogether. His wand had obeyed another and allowed Potter to use it like nothing, forcing him in turn to use his mothers that rejected him often as time went by. It seemed not even his wand could hold loyalties to him just like everything else. With a growl he snatched up the paper before proceeding to rip to shreds without noticing his mothers calculating gaze watching him.

As he watched the last torn pieces to the floor he began to try and regulate his uneven breathing. He couldn't control a lot of things in his life but he would make sure that his emotions would be one of them. Even here in the parlor with no eyes watching he grew angry at himself for letting bitterness overtake him and shred the paper to bits. He showed him how weak he still was and how easily Potter could control his emotions without even realizing it. It was still as when they were at Hogwarts, as if Potter held in his hands a string straight to his emotions to pull on at will. He shook his head at that notion, that someone could have so much power over him once again.

He backed away from the pieces slowly catching sight of one torn piece that stared up at him, still there the gaze of Potter. There would be the last time he would see the other in anyway, he vowed that to himself. He would make sure never to pick up a Daily Prophet or the even more ludicrous Quibbler so that he would have to stare at photographs and read articles gushing over him. He would shut himself away in the Manor where no one spoke of the one who had assisted in sending Lucius off to Azkaban. He would never return to Hogwarts to hear him again.


	2. Chapter 1: No Choice

Thank you to everyone who added this story to their favorites and who left a review, I really appreciate you giving this story a chance. Here is chapter 1 as promised

Chapter One: No Choices

The week had passed by to Draco in a much slower cadence as any of the previous weeks he had spent alone at the manor. He had stayed away from any type of letters that were left upon his desk with the Hogwarts seal and Daily Prophets left about in the manor. After the first 3 days from his confrontation with his mother he had secluded himself to his quarters to avoid her eyes. She never verbally brought up her concerns with his hermit like behavior again but in her eyes he could see it clear as day. The worry she had was evident but to himself he lied and said it was nothing of the ordinary.

He had been impressed somewhat with McGonagall when he saw that she had not sent him any letters the first couple of days though upon the fourth when he secluded himself he concluded that his mother had written to the other about what he was doing which caused the slew of owls to visit him daily now on more than one occasion. He gritted his teeth as from his window he could hear the all too familiar noise of talons on scrapping the window to be let in. He had learned his lesson quickly that the owls would make sure no matter what to get in to deliver the message. Upon the 6th day of owls we had decided to open the window to hex the owl as a message to McGongall, instead he learned that two owls had been sitting outside his window sill. He was successful in hexing one while the other flew in to screech and claw at him in revenge. After that incident he had placed a spell on his window that if an owl managed to get into the room it would be pushed out immediately.

He was rather annoyed that he had to go through such lengths just to keep himself at peace in his own home. He had though that having the nightmares constantly was bad enough but he learned quickly enough that they few blessed nights where he didn't hear disembodied voices chasing him in his dreams, he was awoken early by the wretched owls. He was growing to his wits end and he knew exactly who could stop the meddlesome owls from approaching him. He knew he would have to talk to his mother again but he was not willing to come to an agreement with her for it. He had laid down his terms already and he would not be changing them whether she liked it or not.

With a sigh he had left his place in the alcove he had set up for reading. He placed down the book he had tried distracting himself with no luck onto the small table to the side of it. He knew that he would not find her in the study where he usually watched her, their argument seemed to deter her from entering the study from what he had observed earlier in the week. He quietly exited his room making his way to the lower level of the manor, cursing its large size in times like this. What he thought would be a long search was quite the opposite as he heard voices coming from the left wing. As he walked down the wing towards where the voices seemed to come from, he was surprised to hear one of them was a male voice.

His mother never had visitors and much less male ones to boot. It would not be seen well for a woman with a husband to have another man in her home and especially alone. He frowned for a moment at that thought, many would rejoice at the sight instead as it would be seen as an insult to Lucius Malfoy. He hadn't been told if they were having guests and the only males that ever came around were his father's solicitors with news from the Ministry. He thought for a moment as to who else could be here. He frowned further as he thought of Aurors. It wasn't often that they visited but more than enough for him to remember them.

Every time some nut had decided to run around calling themselves a Dark Wizard serving Voldemort they came knocking at his door to speak to him. The first few visits he had been furious that they would do such a thing and that the Minister would allow it but after a few times he grew to accept that this would be normal of his life from now on. This would be one of the many things he would have to do as payment for his choice of which side he choose. He clenched his hand into a fist on the arm that still held the worst of his reminders of the war and wondered what they could be here for now. He had been secluded to his home all this time but for them it was never enough of an alibi, when you possessed enough bad blood that flowed in the Malfoy's you could cause anyone to do your dark bidding. His eyes narrowed as he remember one particular Auror by the name Lemming say that him as he was alone with him and his partner.

He took a breath as he pushed open the door to the Tea Room without knocking and entered. His mother was seated facing the door, her head snapping up to meet his eyes in surprise. It was quite obvious she had not expected for him to be down on the lower level and much less in the Tea Room. It made him all the more agitated to see she was hiding whatever it was that she was doing. He could in front of him two males facing his mother but with their backs turned to him. One with jet black hair in a short cut and another with unruly brown hair on the longer side; both wearing those all too familiar robes that he hated. He watched as his mother rose without a word to acknowledge him and began to push away from the table.

"Don't bother Mother," he replied amazed that he could keep his voice composed. "I'm sure you're visitors here are not here for tea with you but for me" he finished as he made his way around the table towards her where he could see the others more clearly.

"Draco dear perhaps you can wait?" he could hear the pleading request in her voice as she moved to intercept his movements towards her.

"Why wait when it's obvious what they're here for" he spat as he rounded the table, pushing pass her to see the others.

"The world doesn't always revolve around you Malfoy" one of the figures said to him with a smirk that he had grown to hate over the years.

There at the table sat the Boy Who Saved All with the same smirk he had always given Draco when he had been the winner at their Quidditch Games. It was the same smirk when he was found in the bathroom their sixth year that left him with his many scars. It was a smirk that clearly said look at who I am know and who you will always be. Words couldn't escape his throat as so many things came flooding at once and overwhelmed him. Was the Ministry now just trying to humiliate him also by having Potter interrogate him with the ridiculous witch hunts they partook in?

"This is a great first" the other Auror who he had recognized as Calhoun said with a laugh. "He usually has so much to complain about but it's nice for him to keep his mouth shut for once, it's like his trials all over again" He added with a smirk at Draco as he watched the silent boy.

The other mans words seemed to snap Draco from the temporary paralysis as he turned to look at the other man. He had been an older Auror who had been in the war and had lost his partner to the Death Eaters before the battle of Hogwarts. He had always made it a point to emphasize that it had been Draco's aunt, Bellatrix who had hit his partner with the Killing Curse. He had never told his mother of what had occurred during the interrogations, he had never wanted to get her involved but this man seemed to not to be able to keep his mouth shut about it.

"Excuse my assumption Potter but when his kind visit," Draco spat at the word 'kind' as he stared down the other Auror who's smirk instantly left his face to be replaced with a scowl at his words. "It is only for one thing but seeing you here with him doesn't surprise me at all" he added as he turned to look at Potter who had the same eyes of indifference he had seen in the paper a week earlier.

"Again don't assume everything is about you," Harry had repeated with an even voice as he looked at the youngest Malfoy and then turned towards Mrs. Malfoy. "I'm afraid my visit will be cut short Mrs. Malfoy but perhaps next time we can talk in peace" Harry disregarded Draco and the other Auror who stared at him as he spoke so calmly to Narcissa as he stood up from his chair.

"Please Harry, it's all I ask for" Narcissa had pleased to Harry in a familiar manner that caused Draco to feel as if this wasn't the first time Potter had been in his home to talk with his mother.

"What you ask for is a lot Mrs. Malfoy…"Harry had begun with a sigh as he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses only to be interrupted by Calhoun.

"You've got no right to ask for anything, you're lucky your both not rotting in Azkaban where you belong because of Potter you damn dirty Death Eaters" Calhoun spat out which caused Mrs. Malfoy to gasp in surprise as Draco became engulfed with anger.

"You shut your filthy mouth when you speak to my mother that way" Draco bellowed at the other as he pulled out his wand at the other.

"Threatening an Auror and pulling a wand on one? You're stupider than your father was Malfoy" the other mocked Draco with a laugh as he narrowed his eyes onto him. "The others will be happy to see me take you into the department in shackles" he replied as he reached for his wand.

"If you touch your wand Calhoun you'll be the one in shackles" Harry's calm voice brought the attention of the other two back towards him in surprise. "We are here as guests to Mrs. Malfoy who you insulted and started an altercation with Malfoy. Put the wand away or I will file a complaint with Shacklebolt."

It was evident that Harry wasn't really giving the other any options despite making it seem like so, it had baffled Draco to no ends. He had been intrigued as to why he had been here and what his mother could be asking of him but for Potter to defend him that was another mystery. Perhaps it wasn't even anything having to do with defending him but only his mother but he had mentioned his name when speaking to the other. It gave Draco a sense of hope that he knew was misplaced and he shouldn't bother at all with but still there it was so very minutely. He watched in fascination the utter and complete anger that overtook the other Auror but all the man could do was move his hand away from his wand in resignation.

"Step outside Calhoun and you too Mrs. Malfoy" Harry had asked but it was evident that once more he was not leaving any room for questioning, it had occurred to Draco the notion of when had Potter gotten to be so commanding and assertive.

"I do not recommend that Mr. Potter, these people…" Calhoun had begun to debate but was quieted with one look from Harry which caused him to follow Mrs. Malfoy out the door which was then closed.

"Giving people orders already Potter?" he spat out at Harry who had looked up at him after the door had closed. "Enjoy living up to your name now?" the words had slipped pass his lips much faster than his mind could register to tell him to stop behaving like the idiotic school child he had been previously.

"Good to see the war has made you mature Malfoy" Harry had replied with a scowl as he watched the other who seemed to turn a slight shade of pink from his words. "I'm not here to be pleasant with you but rather because of your mother" he explained to Draco making it clear he meant very little to Harry.

"How nice of you, then you can leave my home immediately Potter because unlike my mother I do not want you hear" Draco spat out as he made his way towards the door with his back turned to Harry.

Draco didn't really know what to expect when he had told Potter to leave but the reaction he had gotten was far from what he had expected. He had felt the firm and tight grip on his arm where his Dark Mark was pulling him in the opposite way he had been going. He as expecting Potter to be the forever Martyr he was by stopping him to say something but not the slammed down onto the table, his back and his head hitting it with a resounding thud that echoed in the room. He was certain nothing was heard outside the heavy wooden doors for his mother would have come in wouldn't she? He made an attempt to right himself as anger coursed through him for the rough mistreatment only to be slammed back down onto the table.

"You listen to me you little wanker and you listen well" he heard Harry ground out above him, the anger evident in his face now. "I had to go out of my way here because your mother keeps sending owls to McGongall which in turn have been coming to me. I don't have time to come and baby an idiot who will never change even if someone else thinks they can" the words that came from Potter had stung Draco because he knew all how truthful they were.

"Then do us both a favor and just leave" he responded as he looked away from the fury in the other's eyes. This is what he had secluded himself from in the Manor, the anger and hatred of the world that consumed him but he couldn't avoid it as he felt a hand grip his chin hard and force him to look at Harry.

"The world is trying to move on and live its life, so what makes you think you can hide away here to avoid it Malfoy?" Harry had asked with is voice now becoming shaky in what could only be anger. "What makes you think you're the only one who closes their eyes and sees nothing but bad memories?" he asked again squeezing Draco's face harder.

Draco could feel the pain increasing from not only the hard grip Potter had on his face but from his back from how he laid on the table pinned down. Despite all of that he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge it as Potter's words sunk deeper into him. It was something simple he had wanted, to hide away from it all and stay away from the things that only seemed to make everything worse but here Potter was, a perfect example of how he would never escape who he was. He would never forget who he was so he was right, how would the world forget ever?

"In a weeks' time I better hear from your mother that you are on the Hogwarts Express back to Hogwarts, do you understand me?" there was Potter again giving commands that no one had a choice in. "Do you understand me?" he asked again more forcefully as he pulled Draco up and slammed him down once again onto the table.

Draco couldn't speak as he felt the air leave his lungs from the forceful slam onto the table once again. He couldn't speak as he found himself feeling once more as he had with Voldemort, too scared to say anything against what he was being ordered. He nodded his head though his conscious shouted at him not to succumb to Potter's tactics. He felt the other let go of him, feeling the dull throbbing of the pain in his wrist and on his chin.

"When did you become so violent Potter?" he asked in a whisper as he watched the other step away from him and brushing off his cloak. He hadn't meant to vocalize the question that had been in his mind but it had slipped out anyway.

"I've always been this way with you Malfoy, you always know just how to push my buttons" he replied with a grunt as he pushed his hand through his hair and then pulled off his glasses. "To be honest, this is the first time I've felt something that strongly in a while" came the soft addition that Draco had almost not heard.

"You always say far more than you should" Draco replied as he heard the last bit.

"And you never learn when to keep quiet for your own good" was Harry's reply as he put on his glasses once more and walked out of the Tea Room.

There was Ch. 1! Some of you may be surprised with how Harry was towards Draco but all shall be explained in due time!


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